


Forgive me Father, for I have sinned

by sanar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s02e01 In My Time of Dying, Episode: s02e02 Everybody Loves a Clown, Episode: s05e15 Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid, Gen, Sam-Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:21:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanar/pseuds/sanar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pastor Thomas' life took an interesting turn when he met a young stranger at his church in Sioux Falls. (Spoilers for IMToD, ELAC and Dead men don't wear plaid)Written for "sammybigbang" at LJ and Tumblr</p><p> </p><p><b>  Art link </b> : <a href="http://quickreaver.livejournal.com/110441.html"> Art Post </a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Note** Takes place after episode ELAC. 
> 
>  

 

Chapter 1

It wasn't much past 7.00 a.m. when I walked back into the church. People seldom came to church at that time, at least not the folks from this part of Sioux Falls. The church opened at 7.00 a.m. and I had stepped away only briefly after opening the gates and doors, so I was surprised to see company inside the church already. 

It was a man. He was sitting on one of the pews in the middle and his head was bent down. When I came near, I could see that his shoulders were shaking as if he was crying. 

I was uncertain for a moment. I wasn't sure whether I should approach the person and by doing so I might interrupt whatever he was doing. I looked over to the bye-altar and didn't find any candles lit so I decided that it was safe to assume that the man was not praying. 

I approached him with caution, wondering what ailed him and why he was at the church at this hour. He was rather a tall man who was hunched at the shoulders, with an unruly mop of brown hair that was hiding most of his face. His hands were clasped as if in prayer. But the hands were covering his nose and mouth and upon reaching the man, I could hear the stifled sobs. The man was so lost in his grief, he didn't feel my presence. 

I reached and touched him on the shoulder. He flinched violently and I snatched my hand away immediately. My heart was jack hammering from the strong reaction of the stranger and I froze when he turned to look at me.

The person was actually a boy who looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. His Hazel eyes were red rimmed, filled with tears and glazed over as if he wasn't really seeing me. The grief and pain in the eyes were so strong that I took a step back, overwhelmed by the raw emotion. 

The boy’s face was a mess. There were cuts and bruises scattered all over. He looked haggard and there were dark circle under his eyes, clearly showing how exhausted he was. His tear strained cheeks were pale and he was shivering. It was clear that he was in shock and I knew that I should try to reach and help him as soon as possible.

“Son?” My voice broke. The sheer amount of raw pain and vulnerability that were rolling off the boy was effecting me greatly. 

“Pastor Jim...?” he asked back, voice stuttering and unsure. He sounded so lost and I was sure that he was not really seeing me. My heart clenched as the simple question held a hint of uncertain hope, as if he wanted me to be this Jim.

“I’m sorry, son. My name is Thomas,” I said, trying to steady my voice but it wasn't easy. The younger man flinched again. His eyes finally cleared and widened. I knew that he had noticed me for the first time. Fresh tears trickled down his face and an anguished sob broke from him.

“Son?” I asked, concerned, trying to reach him. But he stood up so fast that he stumbled. So I took a few steps back to give him space.

“I’m...sorry…” he whispered and stumbled past me towards the door. His footsteps were unstable as he hurried away, leaving me in a stunned silence.  
It took me few minutes to recover from the shock and I hurried back towards the church gates, hoping to see which direction he took, but the boy was long gone by the time I got there. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next time I saw the young man, almost a week had passed. It was near closing time when I entered the church to lock the doors. He was sitting in the back and looking straight ahead.

I wondered whether he was a new resident. I couldn’t recall any news of such because if there were any new residents, Mrs. Smith would inform me. The brief encounter with him had me shaken to my core and lately I had been thinking about him. He had triggered a protective instinct in me. 

I stopped in the middle of the passage. But recalling what had happened last time, I wasn’t sure whether I should approach him. While I was debating with myself, the boy spoke up. 

“I’m sorry…. I know it’s quite late. I just needed to be somewhere else for a few minutes.” He turned towards me. “I'd appreciated it much if I could stay for a little bit.”

I nodded. I was quite surprised that the boy was aware of my presence. His senses were sharper than I'd anticipated. A small but genuine smile, full of relief, greeted me. 

I took a tentative step towards him. 

“Are you all right, son?” I asked, assessing him. 

He looked somewhat better than the last time we'd met. His cuts and bruises were healing but he still looked too pale for my liking. 

“Not really,” the young man admitted, looking down. 

“Do you want to talk? I can offer you a helpful ear if you want.” I was hoping that I could offer some comfort to the boy.

“I’m not sure you would understand, Pastor―?” 

“Thomas,” I completed, and it seemed that he didn’t remember much about our last encounter.

The younger man rubbed his forehead. “Yeah… you did tell me your name last time, didn’t you? I just…I’m sorry if I startled you that day. I wasn’t really myself…”

His voice trailed off. “I’m not sure whether I am myself now either.” He almost whispered the last part and I wouldn’t have heard if I hadn’t been giving him my full attention.

I took it as a welcoming gesture and sat down on the pew behind him.  
“You never gave me your name, son.” 

The younger man turned towards me and looked at me thoughtfully. “I’m Sam. It’s nice to meet you… properly,” he added with a bit of embarrassment and extended his hand.

I smiled and shook his hand. “I might be able to help lift off your load a little bit. If you'd like to talk about what’s bothering you, it might give you some comfort.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “I should bring my brother here.” 

I frowned a bit. “Your brother likes to talk?”

Sam let out a bitter laugh. “It’s more like he doesn’t want to talk … to me or anyone else for that matter and I worry about him. I don’t want to lose him too.”

“Sam… If I am to help you, you need to give me more details. I’m a bit confused here,” I said in an encouraging voice, nudging him into talking. Sam bit his lip and for several minutes he was silent. For a moment I thought that he would not talk, but then Sam sighed deeply.

“I don’t think you’d understand my situation, Pastor Thomas.”

“I have heard that many times, Sam. People come to the church for many things. For confession, redemption, to pray, to heal or to find faith during a difficult situation. All those times I have heard people say that I would not understand their situation. I may not understand their situation or your situation, son. But I always try to do my best to offer some comfort or advice to them. How about you give me a chance too?”

Sam offered me a sad smile. “You are a lot like Pastor Jim…”

I recalled that the last time we met, Sam had mentioned a Pastor Jim and had thought that I was him. Before I could ask about it further, Sam started to talk.

“When I was a baby, my mom was killed in my nursery. Then our whole house was set on fire. My Dad handed me over to my big brother Dean and he carried me to safety. 

“My Dad was a marine, he fought in the Vietnam War. So when Mom died, he sort of went into military mode again. He raised us as soldiers…”  
Sam paused and looked thoughtful, and it seemed that he was pondering the best way to tell his story.

“There was a serial killer element in my mom’s murder, and my Dad became a private investigator. He raised us in the life of hunting down serial killers, or any criminal, really. We were involved in that lifestyle since we were kids. I didn’t approve of his methods but Dean was all for it. He would follow my Dad with blind faith and never questioned him."

“I was different. I know we helped people by catching those killers but I wanted a life which was safe for my family. I wanted a normal apple-pie life, as Dean would like to call it. But what I mostly wanted was my family to be safe.”

“Me and my Dad, we always found something to argue about. Most of the time we didn’t even know what we were fighting over. Dean was normally the mediator during the fights.” 

Sam ran a shaky hand across his hair.

“I got accepted to college and I wanted to go. My Dad and I had a huge fight, no surprise. He told me if I left, I should never come back and that’s what I did. I left him and Dean and walked away. I really hoped that Dean would follow me to…” Sam snorted, “...safety.” He emphasized the last part as if it was a cruel joke. 

“Or that’s what I thought it was. But he didn’t."

"I didn’t talk to Dean for two years and Dad for four years. But one day Dean came to my apartment and he wanted help to find Dad because he had gone missing. So I went with him. We couldn’t find Dad, but he had left us coordinates at one of the places he'd stayed. Dean wanted to go to him, but I wanted to get back to college…” 

The younger man’s voice broke. He paused for a minute and his eyes were full of tears. “When we came back to my apartment, my girlfriend, Jess, was murdered.” 

I felt my heart sink. Sam was silent for few minutes trying to compose himself. 

“It was the same… person. It was the same serial killer who had killed my mother when I was a baby. I almost didn’t survive Jess’s death if not for Dean. He saved me again. There was a fire and he pulled me out of the fire and took care of me and I wouldn’t be here without him.”

I could see the adoration and the gratitude in Sam’s face when he mentioned Dean. At that moment, I knew that the bond of these siblings was quite strong or else I wouldn’t see so much emotion from him

“And for the first time, I understood what Dad and Dean were going through. I understood Dad’s need for revenge. I wanted revenge too, and I still want it. I stopped running from our world and rejoined it.”

Sam looked down, his hands clasped together. 

“We were able to track down this serial killer. We call him Yellow Eyes.”  
Sam finished in almost a whisper, his hands still clasped and his grip was tightening. A tear slipped out of Sam’s eye.

“There were certain patterns that he'd left behind and my Dad was able to track him. We almost had him, but he got the drop on us first. Someone who'd worked for him killed two of our family friends… Pastor Jim and Caleb.

“In our line of work, we have very few friends. Dean and I, we used to spend our time at Pastor Jim’s church when we were kids. He was the one who taught us Latin, prayers, and he was the one who helped me to get to college.” Sam bit his lip.

“And they died protecting us.” Sam looked up, his face set in a frown. 

“Then Yellow Eyes wanted my father to bring something to him. So Dad went and they caught him. When we tried to save him, Yellow Eyes used our Dad as leverage.”

Sam turned towards me; the younger man’s eyes were hard with anger. 

“My Dad asked me to shoot him. It was either I shoot to kill my Dad and Yellow Eyes, or let both of them live. I couldn’t kill him. Dean was begging me not to. Even if Dean didn’t beg, I would not have been able to do that. I will never be able to kill my own father to avenge anyone. We had lost so much.”

All the anger left at the admission, and Sam looked tired and resigned. 

“There are times, I wonder…. what would have happened if I'd killed him? Yellow Eyes and Dad… would things change?” 

It felt like he wasn’t really talking to me. It was as if Sam was trying to console himself. 

“No, it wouldn’t have worked. I would never forgive myself. Dean would never forgive me…. I can’t do it.” He shook his head in despair. His eyes glazed over for few minutes but he recovered quickly and continued to tell the rest of his story. 

“Dean was tortured and he was in a bad way. Yellow Eyes escaped… I was driving Dad and Dean to the hospital when a semi crashed onto us on the way.”  
I was stunned. His story was progressively becoming worse. 

“All of us were admitted to the hospital but Dean was the worst. He was in a coma and his doc was telling me that he wouldn’t wake up. I looked everywhere to find him some help. I couldn’t find anything. All of the times Dean helped me, took care of me … and I couldn’t do anything for him."

"I almost lost him, and Dad was nowhere to be found when I needed him. I was so angry at him. Dean needed him... I needed him... and he wasn’t there for us.”

I placed my hand gently on Sam’s shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort. For a moment I was sure that Dean had died but then Sam did mentioned him earlier, and he’d said that he'd almost lost Dean. I knew that he had lost someone, remembering the grief-stricken boy of our first encounter. 

“Then something unexpected happened. Dean woke up. Dad came back to the hospital, and I asked where he went. I was ready to fight and tell him that he should have stayed with us… he should have stayed with Dean. But then Dad asked me not to start a fight and that we always fought without a proper reason… I knew something was wrong. He never says things like that.” 

Tears continued to stream down his cheeks and Sam didn’t make a move to wipe them. “He asked me to bring him coffee. I was away for some time and when I came back to his room… he was on the ground.” 

Sam’s voice became a stutter. 

“He was dead. I screamed for help and when the doc and nurses came, they made me stay outside… I ran back to Dean’s room and came back with him. The doc tried but he couldn’t save Dad.”

Sam brushed away the tears and tried to compose himself. I was again at a lost on what to say or do. I had a feeling that Sam had more to tell me so I gave the young man some time to get his thoughts and emotions in check. 

“I know Yellow Eyes came back for him. Something happened during the time he was missing and it drives me crazy not knowing what happened. I have a theory that Yellow Eyes and Dad…… "

Sam’s voice trailed and he took a deep breath. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore… I want Yellow Eyes dead. I want to avenge Dad… that’s the only coping mechanism I know…. Dean isn’t doing well. He is healed physically but emotionally he is a mess. He had shut himself down. He wouldn’t talk to me… he wouldn’t even look at me. He just shoves me away from him. Dean admired Dad and pretty much hero-worshipped him. It’s a huge blow to him…. I just don’t know how to help.” 

I was surprised. I was expecting Sam to talk about how he’s dealing but he was more focused on helping Dean.

“Son, how are you feeling?” 

Sam snorted. “I… I want to help Dean… I know how I feel and I’m trying to make amends.”

I raised an eye brow at the word ‘amends’. I looked at the younger man with curiosity. What was he trying to make amends for?

“Why don’t you enlighten me, Sam?” 

“On how I feel? I feel angry. I want to hunt that thing down and kill it for taking away Mom, Jess, Pastor Jim, Caleb… and Dad. I feel damn…” 

Sam had the decency to look ashamed. 

“Sorry! I feel guilty. All those times I fought and argued with him, I wasted so much energy and time on unnecessary things. I ran away from hunting and when I think about it … so many wasted moments."

"Now after four years, I’m right where it all began. I let my pride come between Dad and myself. I never called him back because I was far too stubborn to give up on a fight. I tried to pick a fight with him on the last time I saw him. For all I know he died thinking that I hated him.” 

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. 

“So I’m trying to make up for all that wasted time. I wanted to do what Dad would have wanted us to do. Dean told me it’s too little too late. I’m not saying it’s not. But I try… I have to try. I don’t know what else to do…"

“I tried talking to Dean but he wouldn’t listen. He shut me off and I don’t blame him. He’s got enough to deal with on his own and I don’t want to burden him. So I tried to get him talk to me so I could help him. Dean told me that I’m dumping all my issues on him. I’m not… I want to help him…I’m just… I’m just lost… I miss Dad… but most of all I miss my big brother.”

“Eventually I told him how I felt and it backfired really badly. Dean was pissed. He beat up his car. He loves that car more than anything. It is his most precious thing in life and he beat it up because he was so angry at me.” 

Sam’s voice broke.

“I watched him beating the car up. I froze… I couldn’t move until he stopped. Then I just walked away… I didn’t know what else to do… I couldn’t stay there. I was aimlessly walking around the town, trying to clear my head and then decided to come here. I came here the first time, right after Dad’s funeral. I couldn’t sleep after that. Dean had already shut me out. I couldn’t bear to stay at Bobby’s place. It has too much of memories of Dad”

I frowned. Bobby Singer would have been the last place I expected Sam to be from.

“Bobby Singer?” I asked.

“Yeah… you know him?” Sam asked earnestly.

I shook my head. “I don’t know Mr. Singer that well. He doesn’t come to the church. I only know him because he fixed my truck few times”

Sam nodded. “He’s a great guy, but I don’t think he leaves the salvage yard for anything other than business. He’s like family to us. His house and Pastor Jim’s church were pretty much our solid homes. Two places that never changed. Everything else changed…motel rooms, schools, friends, teachers, temporary houses and apartments. But Bobby and Pastor Jim always had a room for us.

“So this is it. This is my sob story. Like I said, I know what I’m going through… I just don’t know how to help Dean. Since you said you might be able to help me… any ideas?” 

Sam turned towards me and I was lost for words. 

As per what Sam said, I realized that Dean was someone who bottled up his feelings and Dean was not in a shape to help his little brother to deal with his grief. It seemed to be that Sam’s anchor was Dean and without Dean to ground him, Sam was going around in circles not knowing what to do. I didn’t know what was going on with Dean and without knowing that, I couldn’t be much of a help. I could only offer generic advice.

“Everyone grieves differently, Sam. You and your brother don’t have to grieve in the same way. You have to be patient with him… remind him that you are still around… he still has family that cares for him. Eventually he may open up. I don’t know anything about you or Dean but from I what I can gather, you might have a hard time reaching Dean now. Its normal, Sam… people tend to bottle up and shut themselves off in order to protect themselves. You have to try and be patient with him.”

I knew that what I offered to Sam was not what the younger man wanted. I knew that Sam already realized all of this. But in his own grief, he was struggling to reach out to his brother.

“It’s all right; don’t worry about it,” Sam said, getting up from the pew. 

“I've known Dean whole my life and I don’t know what to do right now. I don’t expect you to give me answers,” 

Sam added, as if he was trying to reassure me. 

“I’m not even sure what I am doing here… talking to a stranger about my life. But thank you for listening. Dean would kick my butt, if he knew.”

“Did it help?” I dared to ask. 

I felt disappointed at myself for not being able to properly help Sam. I knew that neither Sam nor Dean would be interested in meeting a therapist or attending a support group at the church.

Sam was thoughtful. “I think it kind of did help. I've been walking on eggshells around Dean and Bobby for almost a week. I don’t know how to reach out to them but talking to you did help a bit."

"I’m still angry and I’m still guilty. I want forgiveness and I can’t find it here. There’s no one I can ask forgiveness from,”

Sam said, glancing back towards the altar. 

“The Lord always offers forgiveness, Sam,” I told the younger man. 

Sam turned towards me and offered a sad smile. “It’s not from God I’m looking for forgiveness. Good night, Pastor Thomas. I might see you around…” 

He didn’t wait for me to reply and hurried away from the church. 

“Goodbye, Sam. May God be with you 'til we meet again,” I muttered to myself and went to the altar. I lit a candle at the bye-altar and started praying for Sam.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes Takes after episode: Dead men don't wear plaid

I was sitting in one of the pews in the back of nave waiting for Sam to visit the church. 

It had been a long week. People had started to visit the church more frequently and given what had happened in last few days, I couldn't blame them. Faith for some people had been renewed and the faith of some had gone away. But whatever the circumstances, the majority of the residents turned towards church either to blame or to seek comfort.

We were suddenly 'blessed' with our departed. It happened without warning: the dead rose. At first I didn't know what to make of it. People turned to church for explanations and comfort in an almost impossible situation and I didn’t know what to tell them. It was far too overwhelming. Many families had their departed loved ones back. 

But the miracle was short-lived as all the dead people turned into hungry killers. The families had to lose their loved ones again and also some due to the killings of the dead people. It was a tragic situation where everyone had to live with renewed grief. They not only had endure the grief of losing them but also had to watch their loved ones turned into monsters. 

The whole town had turned to chaos. People were calling the newspapers, television networks, conspiracy theorists, and anyone outside Sioux Falls immediately thought that everyone had gone crazy. The church was opened earlier than usual and was closed much later. I was organizing support groups and in the process of finding more therapists. Given the circumstances, it was hard to find the help because how could we confide what had happened to a stranger from outside Sioux Falls? Thankfully Sheriff Mills was able to find some help through Bobby Singer.

When the sheriff called me and told me about the news of the dead turning into monsters, I was speechless for a moment. I refused to use the word _“zombie”_ because it sounded too much like the science fiction drama that boys from my youth group babbled about. And the idea that these people were killing others to eat their meat made my skin crawl. 

But I was more shocked to hear that Sheriff Mills had enlisted help from two brothers who were friends of Bobby Singer. My mind immediately went to Sam and his brother. When I inquired about them from Sheriff Mills, she was surprised at first. I told her that I had met Sam briefly and if she could pass a message to the young man for me, please ask him to come and pay a visit to the church. 

It has been around three years since our last encounter. Even though I hoped to see Sam back in the church, he never returned. Once, I asked about them from Bobby. His face darkened and set in a scowl and said something about both of them being idjits and they were doing as well as they could be. I took that news as a comfort. 

Regardless of how brief our encounter was, I had been drawn to Sam immediately. His story, his struggles, how devoted he seemed to be towards his brother had moved me. I hoped that they would find some peace. I included Sam and his brother in my daily prayers, hoping that the Lord could lessen their burdens and help them through difficult times. 

My curiosity was immediately piqued when I heard how Sam helped sheriff Mills with the monsters. I remembered that Sam mentioning that he was a PI, which was passed down to him from his father. Sam had said his family had been after a serial killer that had killed his mother and girlfriend, and that he had a theory that the same person may have killed his father. For the first time I had my doubts whether he had been honest with me back then. But then again, if it had been something similar to what we went through, Sam had a good reason to be as discreet as possible.

“Pastor Thomas?” A hesitant voice asked from behind me. I turned immediately and Sam was there standing near entrance. He looked unsure and for a brief moment I felt like he was scared to step inside the church. 

The boy had grown a lot within the last three years. He was no longer lanky and was not trying to hide his height. His floppy mop of hair was brushed back, neatly tucked behind his ears. The vulnerability and the youthfulness had left his face and he looked matured… and there was something else in the way he carried himself.

I stood up and hurried towards him. 

“Sam… it’s so good to see you again, son!” I said placing a hand on his shoulder. Sam offered me a small smile. His hazel eyes were full of grief and sadness, just as when I saw him three years ago. My heart sank. It was clear that he had not found peace, and I feared for him.

Sam looked weary and as if the weight of the world was on his shoulder. His hands kept twitching like he was anticipating some sort of blow from me. He heaved a deep breath and spoke softly.

“It’s good to see you again Pastor Thomas. It’s good to have someone eager to see me.” 

I frowned at what he said. “Are you alright?” I asked, steering him towards the nave so that he could sit in one of the pews. 

Sam smirked at me. “Don’t go there, Pastor Thomas. Remember what happened last time.” 

I smiled at the gesture. “I haven’t really forgotten, Sam. Speaking of that, I have a feeling that you weren't entirely truthful with me last time.”

We sat down. Sam’s eyes glazed over for few minutes, trying to recall what he had told me last time.

“Oh! You mean the serial killer business?” 

he asked teasingly. I mock glared at him.

“Given what happened here during last few days, I have a feeling you were not after a serial killer” 

Sam gave me a thoughtful look. “How are you holding up, Pastor Thomas?” 

I raised my eyebrows at him, surprised at the quick turnover of the question. 

“I’m doing as well as I can in the given situation. Thanks to the mercy of the Lord, none of my dearly departed returned from the grave. I didn’t have to go through the traumatizing events like the rest of the families but it changed things for me. It changed how I see the world."

“We learned about demons, exorcisms, and I have heard of supernatural beings thanks to my over imaginative youth group. But I was never prepared for monsters being real…. which comes back to my original question. Was it something supernatural that killed your family?”

“What made you come to that conclusion, Pastor Thomas? It could have very well been a serial killer.” 

He was clearly trying to avoid the question and I wasn't sure whether I should push him into it.

“Sheriff Mills told me how informative you were about the so called _zombie_ lore and you knew how to kill them. You were one of the very few who had been calm and collected during the whole incident, which made me think that the life you wanted to run away from had everything to do with these… _monsters_.”

Sam nodded gravely. His gaze was turned towards the altar. He was probably wondering whether he should trust me with information about his life or not. 

“It’s more than you could have ever imagined. My whole life, I have been hunting the supernatural. And yeah… it wasn’t a serial killer who killed mom, Jess and Dad. It was a demon named Azazel.” 

I felt myself shudder. That name was not something to tread lightly with. Sam interpreted my body language and nodded sadly. 

“It’s the same one that you know. He was after my family… and Dean killed him around three years ago. Our dad even helped in his own way.” 

I recalled how Sam wanted forgiveness from his father... and perhaps from all the people that had died trying to protect them. 

“Were you able to ask for his forgiveness?” 

“Dad’s forgiveness? Not really. But I had a chance to tell him that I understood him, understood what he did for us and that I loved him. It was enough closure to me.” 

I nodded my head. People need closure to start healing. Maybe Sam was starting to heal, with regards to his father’s death. But his posture still worried me. I knew he was carrying more emotional weight than before.

“So what’s bothering you now, Sam?” I asked him gently, hoping that maybe this time I might be able to offer him some comfort, now that I somewhat knew about the supernatural world.

Sam looked at me, his eyes were pained and he bit his lip so hard that it drew blood.

“We lost some of our very close friends. They were almost like family and they died … as usual… protecting us and giving us an opportunity to finish something I did. They sacrificed themselves because of me. I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for it.”

I placed my hand on Sam’s shoulder. It was the only way I knew to offer comfort to him. Regardless of how I felt towards him, I have very little knowledge about him. I have no idea on what’s the best approach towards him or how to make him feel safe and comforted, and it frustrated me. 

Sam didn’t shrug off my hand so I took it as a good sign. 

“Can I ask you something, Pastor Thomas?” 

“Certainly, Sam” 

“I have made quite a lot of bad choices which resulted in hurting so many people. We were pitted against two forces that none of us could comprehend and my choices made the situation far more worse. 

“We lost yet again two people in our battle… a battle that happened because of me.I have seen so many bad things out there. I have experienced worse and Dean, maybe more. But I never lost my faith in God. I always believed and prayed to God. But sometimes I wonder…. I pray to God for forgiveness for my sins and I wonder whether he hears me, whether he would grant redemption for what I did.”

Sam swallowed thickly. There were tears gleaming in his eyes. 

“I can’t tell you what happened in detail. It’s a long story, Pastor Thomas. But you have to understand that I made a terrible mistake. I was warned not to do it but I wanted revenge for what she did to Dean…”  
His voiced pitched higher and he spoke with vehemence.

“What she made me watch…. she was doing some really bad stuff and I thought if I stopped her, I would put an end to her work. But with what I did, I completed what she was aiming for. Because of me, people I love were hurt and worse; two of them are dead. There are people who died and suffered because of the choices I made.”

Sam’s breathing was becoming erratic and my worry for him increased. I may not have known Sam well, but my gut feeling was telling me that he was a good soul and my instincts hadn’t failed me so far. The amount of guilt and the pain in Sam’s face, in his voice and eyes, made me wonder what had happened to him. 

I was also confused as to why he didn’t elaborate about the woman he was speaking of. Someone had hurt Dean, and Sam had set his mind on revenge. I wasn’t surprised. Sam spoke about his brother with much love and adoration. I hoped that Dean was all right and whatever she did to him, Sam was able to help him. 

“Do you think God would forgive me? Sam asked me. His voice was a whisper and his hands were clasped together tightly. 

Tears slipped from his eyes. 

In my time of service as a pastor, I have met many people seeking out to the church wondering whether God would forgive them for their sins. I have listen to them and offered comforting words and a sympathetic ear. I would quote the Bible and tell them if they repented, God would forgive them. But that was all before zombies happened. 

So many people suffered without reason. So many good people had to go through a tragic time and were faced with a horrible situation. I haven’t lost my faith completely but I had my doubts as to why God would let such a tragic situation fall upon so many innocent people.

Given all that Sam could have seen and experienced in his life time, I’m surprised that he still believed in God… that he still prayed and asked Him for forgiveness. And it made me wonder whether I should doubt the Him. Maybe God sent Sam my way to remind me that I should not lose my faith in Him.

“God works in mysterious ways, Sam. We don’t know what He has in store for us. If you are to redeem yourself, God will give you a chance to do so. You have seen things that are far beyond my comprehension but still, here you are. You still believe in Him and you are praying to Him. You have no reason to doubt yourself or Him.

_"Remember these things, O Jacob, and Israel, for you are my servant; I have formed you; you are my servant; O Israel, you will not be forgotten by me. I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you.”_

We were both silent for a long time. Both Sam and I were lost in our own worlds. I kept wondering about these two young men. How must have their life been all this time, facing the darkness and fighting against it. Did people know what they do, the sacrifices they made so we could live in a safer world? How do they manage to do whatever they do? Who taught them about these monsters and how to defeat them? I had so many question and I knew Sam might not answer any of them. 

“Thank you, Pastor Thomas,” Sam said in a soft voice, breaking my chain of thoughts. 

“You are welcome, Sam… but did I really help?” I asked sincerely.

Sam’s situation was different from any other person who came to the church. Despite how strange the situation was I wished that I could be of some help to him.

“Well… last time I was at the wrong place. At least this time, I’m at the right place to ask for forgiveness. And there’s something I would like to do, which you could help me with.”

“What’s that, son?”

“I would like to make a confession!”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second big bang and I'm writing pretty much after 5 years! I found sammybigbang accidentally but I'm glad I did! 
> 
> This wasn't really the story that I had planned for the challenge! It was a big bang and I ran out of time (It's now in my laptop, unfinished....) The initial story was set after IMToD to ELAC and this little story came to my muse when I was pulling my hair, wondering what to do for the challenge.
> 
> Sam Winchester is pretty much one of those characters that never get enough time to express their side of the story. We have seen Dean expressing his feelings, having a breakdown or even grieving. But have we ever seen Sam do that? So this was my take on it. Sam always talked to Dean about his feeling (if he ever get the chance to!) but other than that we never saw him connect to Bobby the way Dean connected to Bobby. So I wanted someone outside of their world for Sam to talk to... may be confined a little bit so he could have some peace. And I felt a Pastor would be ideal. Sam has always shown as someone who had faith in God despite what happened around him, so I felt that Sam would go to a church for prayers or forgiveness. 
> 
> In first part of the fic, which was set right after ELAC; Sam was looking for his dad's forgiveness and with pastor Jim's death, I felt that Sam might turn into the church. Even it doesn't offer the forgiveness he's looking for. 
> 
> Second part was set in season 5. So we all know how much of angst/guilty ridden and self-loathing Sam was during that time. And it was immediately after Jo and Ellen's death. It felt right that Sam would go for a church for forgiveness. For letting out Lucifer, for Jo and Ellen's death and for what happen at Sioux Falls. I didn't want to go through his confession so I stopped before that, but he does confess in his own way throughout the entire fic. He's asking for forgiveness from God or from John. This was what I wanted to capture and I hope I did it so that you guys could actually make sense of the story :-)
> 
> There are two breadcrumbs I left. :-)
> 
> 1\. Sam told Young!John about how he felt during 'The Song remains Same'. He pretty mush said "I love you" without directly saying "I love you" and I felt that it was Sam's closure for the guilt he had regarding to John's death. 
> 
> 2\. Pastor Thomas said that God would give him a chance to correct his sins. I wanted this to be the thought process of Sam taking down Lucifer. It was his redemption. Not only he did it for the world, he also did it for himself. 
> 
> Sorry for the babble! Comments are love! Please take a moment to comment <3


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